Sweeping branches of evergreen pines form a sort of natural roof overshadowing most of this clearing. In the center is a fire pit with several old logs polished from use for seats. A separate stack of firewood is discreetly piled up at the base of an old spruce, protected from the damp by a tarp. At the edge of the clearing and extending back a bit into the woods resides a rough wooden structure with a slate tile roof. A stone slab rests off to one side of the clearing in a place of some prominence. Nestled in among the pines are a few hardy perennials--red alder, quaking aspen, and a big leaf maple or two--that, come spring, will create a profusion of color in the clearing.
A faint trail leads off to the east, and a bit north.
Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
He's in old black jeans with the rip in one knee and the cuffs half walked off, today with a blue t-shirt bearing the superman logo, the print very faded and the fabric looking thin enough that it may have genuinely gotten that way through time and not retro-merchandising. The shirt's rather snug in a flattering sort of way. Over it he's wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned, with a scattered pattern of tiny blue and red dolphins; he's also in possession of a pair of white plastic wayfarer-style sunglasses with iridescent indigo lenses. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
Here is a young woman who is built like a track star with shoulder length brown hair and matching brown eyes. Her skin borders on the slightly tanned due to being kissed from the sun from her outdoor activities. Alicia is of caucasian descent with a hint of peruvian mingled into her DNA. Her apparel tends to be a mix of urban streetwear in the form of loose fitted cargo pants and crop shirts, to long skirts with button down blouses. Fairly tall at five-eight, she looks to be a young woman who has seen her share of scraps, and radiates an aura of confidence and showmanship with how she walks. Under her shirts, her stomach has a number of hacksawed looking scars along her skin that criss-crosses around to her back and just under her breast.
Clearly one of the parents of this wolf wasn't actually a wolf. Judging from the sheer size of him and his long, shaggy coat, it was probably a buffalo or a yak or something. From the looks of things, he's about a good thirty pounds heavier than the average wolf and his body thicker and blockier than what you might find while standing a good hand taller. His fur is a deep, shaggy black, longer and thicker than anything you would find on his brethren. His face, though, is still clearly wolf despite the slightly blockier appearance. His muzzle is also the only place where you see any real color to him, having picked up the color and markings from his wolfish parent.
Briari stands at a fairly average height of five foot three with shoulder length curly blonde hair. Her eyes are a soft blue color. She has a lean, lanky build about her which appears built more for running than lifting. She tends to dress in boring jeans and shirts purchased at the local Hot Topic. Geekery shirts with logos of Adventure Time, My Little Pony, Futurama, Star Wars, etc. She rarely wears make up or jewelry. She has a bit of a southern tan complexion from living in Georgia.
This is a young woman of average height or a little above, maybe 5'6 or 5'7, who looks to be somewhere in her early twenties in age. She has olive skin, shoulder length dark brown hair that's almost always pulled back into a simple, tight ponytail, and even darker brown eyes that look black from any distance when they aren't catching the light. She is neither ugly nor particularly pretty, and there's a certain haggardness to her features, a sharpness defined less by genetics and more by hard living. Her build is athletic, of a sort; not the sort you see on track fields, but the sort you find among young soldiers in distant countries, or refugees that are used to moving at a moment's notice and from which reality demands a certain sort of fitness or death.
Her clothing isn't ragged, but it does tend to be rather frayed around the edges. She wears faded jeans and old but sturdy sneakers with decent treads, a variety of cheap shirts, a long sleeved button-up shirt when the wind is up, and oftentimes has a light jacket tied about her waist, as if she wanted to be prepared just in case. Her hands are well calloused, both on the palm, fingertips, and knuckles. Oftentimes she wears a very well used pair of fingerless gloves, though often these appear to have been made fingerless after the fact.
Shaggy brown hair and darker brown eyes frames this man's face. Justin has a slightly tanned complexion with a hint of Puerto Rican from his mother's side, Caucasian from his father's. He has a fairly lanky build, but underneath his clothes is a body fitted with new muscle. He wears loose fitted 'destroyed' blue jeans, simple tank tops, and worn down sneakers that are about five months in need of replacement. During the cold, a thick green military jacket from his Grandpa. After a mishap with a monster, he was aged roughly five years forward and now looks like a young man in his early 20's. Now at 6'2, he has finally hit the rest of his growth spurt.
Thick honey-blonde hair, styled in a poofy set of curls, rings this pretty blue-eyed young woman's head. She's in her late teens, and her hair's currently left down, though it's occasionally pinned up. She stands about five and a half feet tall, and is a little on the thin side of things, though not to an extreme. She dresses mostly in informal styles, from ripped jeans and tank tops to the occasional sundress.
Currently, she wears the former, her black tank top emblazoned with a large sequined red heart, and her jeans so ripped as to be nearly indecent. About half of the heart's sequins are missing. Her feet are clad in red strappy lightly-heeled sandals that have seen better days. She wears little in the way of jewelry, just a black wooden bracelet, a stainless steel and rhinestone mood ring, and (probably fake) gold earrings. When she speaks, a fairly thick Southern accent is evident.
This is a North American cougar (Puma concolor couguar), which is not an uncommon animal in Washington State, although they are rarely seen by humans. Typical of the species, it has a slender, muscled body with a round head and pointed ears. Like most cougars, this particular specimen is substantially longer, taller, and heavier than the average wolf. He likely tips the scales at about 160lbs and measures nearly 8' from nose to tail: Much of that is certainly tail. This cougar's pelt is slightly more reddish-orange than usual, although not unusually so. Lithe, powerful, sinuous musculature is readily visible beneath the cat's short fur, giving some indication as to the power and speed available to this apex predator should it choose to use it. The black "moustache" marking around his nose and mouth is more pronounced than usual, giving the feline's already-handsome face an even more suave--almost debonaire--appearance. For those with sensitive noses, the cougar does not seem to give off any scent at all.
Stocky and large, the gray wolf is among the heavier of his kind. His muzzle is brutish and short, placed among unforgiving features. His coat is overly thick, bearing winter's thickness in the heat of summer, and appears not of a piece, but to have been assembled in a patchwork fashion, with scars joining the patchwork. His right leg is mangled, missing much of its muscle, and heavily scarred, but still able to bear his weight.
Monster of myth, legends and nightmares. A terrible avenger of the wild... And a beast that seems to have trouble walking. Though a touch ungainly in his current form, he can still move. Judging from the length of his claws and a maw of natural steak knives, that isn't all. A coat of silver white fur swept in many spots at an upward angle now covers him from head to toe. Mixed with the white in random places, a sooty coal black shows through. Large Amber eyes burn with the fiery passion of an Ahroun's rage within.
Consumes-Shadows shows as a heavy dire wolf, far larger than any modern lupine - more bear than wolf. His face is lean and wary, though much of him is built stout and strong. His shaggy, dense coat shows the distinctly darker fur traditional of Shadow Lords. It is mostly a warmer toned black with brown ticking and a few lighter patches around his shoulders. His eyes show a pale yellow under a fierce, heavy expression - at least the one. The blind right one is set in a couch of talon scars. There's a haunted look to his visage, like he has seen terrible things and was never quite was the same after. Paws end in black claws and his heavy jaws are full of sharp teeth. The scars on the lower portions of his two forelegs are dominantly visible, jagged and ash-stained. Numerous other small scars mark him, with the only other of note being a larger, superficial scar across his stomach.
Trace stands six feet in height, with a confidence and certainty to his bearing that makes him seem a little taller, but still the last vestiges of the awkward gangliness of teenagerhood as well. A hint of five o'clock shadow frames a tanned face, hazel-green eyes under perpetually messy hair that reaches just past his ears. The man is dressed neatly, but the clothing is designed to give him ease of movement-- jeans, black leather converse shoes, and a worn leather bomber jacket that's never far from his person over a plain dark blue button-down shirt with a button-down collar worn with enough buttons open to see the white a-shirt underneath and the hint of a tattoo on one shoulder. Today the sleeves are rolled up, nearly to his elbows.
A magnificent bird, covered entirely in a glossy blue-black plumage. Two bright black eyes look out at the world from just above a powerful and heavy beak. Below the beak there is is a well-developed ruff (hackles) of fine feathers that cover the throat. These are fluffed up, or flattened, depending on the bird's mood. From her beak, to her wedge-shaped tail, Memory is over two feet in length, and stands at a hight of just under a foot. Meanwhile, her wingspan is an impressive four and a half feet. The particularly observant may notice a small patch of white feathers, resting neatly between her shoulder blades.
The late afternoon is not just pleasant, but in fact quite warm. And as such, Trace has the mid-weight flannel shirt tied around his waist, and the top several buttons of his shirt open as he makes his way towards the Sept compound. He's drumming with his fingers on his leg as he gets there, and generally seems relaxed and pleased as he looks around.
Moot isn't quite yet so the Alpha is catching up on some much needed rest. The bawn is huge and that's only one part of his day. He appears to be asleep as he lays on the slab of stone on one side of the clearing in his Hispo form. His head's on outstretched paws and his eyes are closed. One ear does turn towards the sound of Trace's approached and his good eye cracks open to look towards the noise.
There is a glimmer in the air as Alicia appears from the Umbra as she steps through into the realm. Today the Gaian Galliard is wearing a long white sundress with a few floral patterns woven throughout the fabric. In her hands is a long walking stick that has a bit of a curve near the head that is sculpted into a leaping wolf. Blowing her long hair out of her face, she gives a glance to the hispo, then the approaching Walker.
Trace moves over to take a seat on one of the logs, situated so that he can turn and face Thane. "Evening," he offers, with a respectful nod towards the Shadow Lord, and a glance towards the Gaian, who gets a nod of greeting as well, but Trace's attention goes to the former. "Glad I caught up to you. I wanted to talk to you about volunteering as a Guardian for the time being, while I finish out my chiminage and while it is needed with the current happenings."
Consumes-Shadows raises his head up from his paws with the slowness that might be reluctance. ~We're doing actual chiminage again? Hm.~ He remarks though it carries the air of something rhetorical. He glances briefly over to Alicia before turning attention back to Trace. ~You're asking for a position that is normally for those of honorable place here in the sept. There is little duty more respected than the defense of the caern.~ Says the Lord as he hoists the rest of himself up until he seated. ~Since Mouse has you performing chiminage, that means you are not a member of this sept in full yet. What is she having you do?~
Trace sits up straight. "Mouse-rhya said that, in general, things are light on the chiminage," Trace says, and then inclines his head. "However, I have volunteered to teach the gifts and rites I know, and she set it as three, although I will teach any who would learn. I am teaching a gift to Felix, and have made arrangements with Jamethon to teach him the rite of Impergium's Shadow after that is over." There is a long pause. "She also said that finding out which ways I could help, here, was a good idea. I ask because I would make myself available in service to the Sept in whichever way there is most need." The Walker seems genuine and straightforward.
Alicia reaches out and drags her fingers along one of the Shadow Lord's big fuzzy ears as she walks past him, then turns and takes a flop down on to a log to sit. Pulling her dress over the tops of her knees, she tilts her head to listen to the pair of them talk.
Consumes-Shadows sharply flicks the ear that's touched with a low warning rumble in his throat. He regards Trace's explanation in full before remarking, ~I see. She is right, given the number of refugees and related the sept received, chiminages was waived as long as the Garou pledged loyalty and was clean and in good standing among the Nation. That being, it sounds like what you are doing is voluntary. So you may act in the capacity of a Guardian, but you may find you may require more flexibility given the news I'll be sharing when the rest are here.~
Black-Light comes padding down one of the trails, clad in a tattered cloak. The garment is neither black nor grey, too filthy to be either. The hood of it hangs as such that his snout pokes out. He takes a seat not far from edge of the clearing, his back to the trees.
Trace rests his hands on his knees and nods, silent and thoughtful after Thane's response. "Alright," he comes out with, before tilting his head up to gaze off into the trees.
There is a flicker of amusement from Alicia as she gives a dip of her head towards Thane, then leans back to place her hands behind her on the log. "Hey, Slug." She calls over to the Ragabash.
Brings-the-Pack arrives with no fanfare and might even go unnoticed as he simply seems to emerge from the treetops some 25' off the ground, settling onto his haunches and balanced on one of an evergreen's sturdier limbs overlooking the meeting area. He looks around, as if keeping tabs on who's here and who isn't.
~Yo,~ Black-Light says, the word strangled and snarled coming from a lupine muzzle. He shifts and settles on his haunches, paws to the earth, his claws dug deep into the soil. His balance shifts from one foot to the next, his hood swaying with each fidget.
Rising-Dawn and Bad-Boy make their way into the clearing from the forest, the former nearly absolutely dwarfed by her packmate's size. Tail wags and she chuffs at the Gnawer theurge as they arrive, pleased. As they get into the clearing, the Gaian resumes her birth form, walking next to Bad-Boy with one hand resting on his shoulder ruffling his fur until they find somewhere to sit.
Trailing behind her Otter packmates is Briari who is currently in her own natural form. Settling down next to them, she gives each of them a big grin, then waves her hand towards her combat instructor, Slug.
Snakepatcher arrives in his unnatural form. He makes a full circle around the sept compound, nose busy, until he finds a place suitable he considers suitable to occupy.
Memory finds herself a perch in the trees that overhang the clearing and looks down at those gathered
Black-Light bobs his head in Briari's direction. He sits up for one brief moment, standing, then settles back down with the knuckles of one paw braced on the earth. Strands of muscle and thin lines of bone stand up on the back of that same hand as he squeezes and relaxes a few times, then his posture loosens, and he falls back down into a squat.
"I dunno, man, I still think explodin' pickles would be awesome," Felix is saying to Justin as they emerge from the trees into the compound, "Who's gonna expect that? Not the jar or nothin', just the actual =pickles=..." He trails off, glancing around at the assembled. There's the slightest hint of disappointment, then gone, and he flashes a grin to one and all, with a bright, carrying, "Evenin'!" A nudge to his packmate, and he starts broadly in the direction of the log Trace has claimed.
Out from the woods comes the lumbering form of Brom. The large glabro form of the viking is shirtless and wearing a pair of snug denim jeans that could use a good washing. In his hands he is holding a large axe that swings back and forth in the palm of his large hand, giving a few twirls of it end over end. Taking the left of the Sept Alpha, he stands resolutely as he stares at the others gathered.
"Yeah, but how the fuck are you gonna get pickles to just magically explode? They sit in a jar of pickle juice, so you can't use a wick. You'd need to blow it up with like a tiny chunk of C4 and detonate it by remote. Even then, are you looking to blow someone's jaw off?" Justin says as he wanders after Felix, aiming towards Trace.
Bad-Boy sits down next to his packmates, tail thumping the ground occasionally until he manages to glance at a certain large bird. He, then, abandons his pack to rush over to bark excitedly at her, running in circles under the branch she's perched in. Bird! Val! Hi!
Memory peers down atvthe excited Gnawer, head cocked to one side. She chirps at the lupus in a friendly manner.
The talk of magically exploding pickles and the sound of Justin's voice are heard by Lilah, and she smiles as she heads into the clearing. She's making as polite a beeline as she can for Felix, though she does take time to wave or nod to those she passes. When she reaches him, he gets a broad smile, and she then greets the rest of those nearby before settling beside Felix.
Dakota is making her way in along with the typical lot and she diverts her path for Alicia to sit down next to her cousin. "...ugh." Mutters the Ritemistress, hardly seen this past while. "Those things are disgusting. I have no desire to try and craft... bodypart talens *ever* again. Feels so wrong."
Consumes-Shadow, perched on the stone slab in his Hispo form, leaves the topic without further details for Trace at the time being and just settles in to wait for bodies to gather. A glance is passed to the coyote pack members and there's a furrow of the Lord's fuzzy brow before Brom's arrival draws his eye. ~Brought your lady, I see.~ He says before uttering a short, perfunctory howl to gather everyone to attention. ~Good evening. A quick but vital bit of news before we get started. It has been brought to my attention an attack on Edgewood, and quite possibly the caern, is imminent. Spread word to those not here. As of now, Edgewood is off limits to all those without my permission to be there. A new safehouse is in the works which will be announced soon. Given that the bawn, despite our best efforts, may not be entirely secure be caution what you discuss without confirming your surroundings.~
Trace gives Felix a nod and a friendly shoulder-bump, but falls quiet, his attention for now on Thane and what is being said. The Walker chews on his lower lip, thoughtfully.
Black-Light's ears flutter as though skirted by a fly. He looks up at the mention of Val's name, then at the chirper. His eyes linger and then he settles, silent and remaining so as news is announced.
There is a wide grin from Brom as he taps the head of the axe against his shoulder. "Yeah, it's date night." He says as his eyes give a flick about those gathered.
"Look, I just have the brilliant ideas, you're the one that's gotta work out how it happens," Felix replies to Justin, with a negilgent wave, "an' nah, 'course not, that'd just be a dick move. Maybe pop-rocks..." He settles next to Trace, with a return bump of greeting, and brightens considerably on seeing Lilah arrive and approach. He pulls her down to join him as soon as she's near enough, and gives her a (thankfully quick) kiss, hushing as the Alpha brings things to order.
"What is it with you and exploding food all of a sudden?" Justin takes a seat and gives Trace's other shoulder a bump, then waves to Lilah once she joins them. As the Alpha goes on to explain the current situation, he grows silent and lets out a heaving sigh.
From up in the tree, Brings-the-Pack adds to Thane's words. "If you are concerned about additional locations being compromised or in danger, speak with me after the moot. I will do what I can--provided I have the time and energies to do so."
Linnaea grins a little at Bad-Boy's excitement lifting a hand to Val in a wave herself. However, for the moment the cliath Gaian is silent save for a few glances and a grin cast over her shoulder towards her packmate.
Lilah reaches out for Felix's hand as things are brought to order, and chews at her lower lip once the news about Edgewood and the caern is announced. She shifts position slightly to look at Brings-the-Pack at his addition, and then shifts her gaze to the Alpha again.
In the dire wolf form it's clear Consumes-Shadows is agitated and even tired, but he continues to speak. ~Related, I had a long discussion with Mouse regarding the idea of bringing down the Tower with bombs. In short, the likely and potential fallout was deemed too severe to be a valid option. New information has come to light and new ideas are being worked.~ But he gives no real details, instead glancing to Brings-the-Pack and giving a very human nod. Back to the Garou, he says, ~That's all the news I currently have. Sorry it isn't better - or even vaguely good. Now, being as it's the half moon, any of you with challenges to make or grievances to share, step forward and voice them.~
Linnaea listens to all of what is being said. At the news that they aren't blowing anything up, she actually looks relieved, if anything, but then she gets to her feet, rising smoothly and swiftly to crinos as she steps forward. The Gaian glances at those gathered, and there's a quiet chuff, not quite clearing her throat, but close. Her ears perk, and she takes a few more steps so that she is across the clearing from Felix. ~Chugs-the-Mystery-Brew,~ she says, ~as I spoke with you about before this day, I now challenge you for the rank of Fostern!~ Not one for long speeches, apparently.
Dakota watches the first challenge occur from her own tribemate. She looks aside to Alicia and leans in to murmur something to the Galliard.
Consumes-Shadows remains on the slab, seated and watchful, but seems neutral to the given challenge as his eye turns from Linnaea to Felix to see his response.
Black-Light remains quiet and calm, his snout slanted toward the ground. The mention of a Tribemate's name and challenges being issued makes him peek out from beneath his hood, even makes him smile a little.
"Oh, is that why you wanted me to make exploding pickles? Niiiiice." Justin says to Felix, then glances over to Lin. "Yeah, I can do that for you."
"I'm hungry an' no one ever lets me explode anythin'," Felix mutters to Justin's question; Thane's remarks about the change in Tower plans shortly thereafter get a small 'you see?' gesture to his packmate. At the announcement of the opening for challenges, he glances across to Linnaea, and grins when he sees her rise. Lilah's hand gets dropped as he gets to his own feet, also melting up to Crinos as he does, and steps forward, standing tall. ~Rising-Dawn!~ he replies dramatically, and somewhat less so, ~...Still don't see why not. I accept. Next half-moon moot: be there or be square.~ It probably doesn't rhyme in Mother's Tongue. He gives her a small nod, and then a grin.
Alicia glances over to Dakota, then shrugs her shoulders upwards helplessly as she blows some hair away from her face. "You got me." She murmurs back.
Rising-Dawn twists her ears forward and listens to the response that her challenge gets, and then says, ~Thank you. I will be there.~ She shifts her weight between her feet, and as she returns to her birth form, there is amusement in her voice when she adds, "You can count on that." That said, she steps back to sit by her packmates once more.
Lilah looks to the Crinos'd Linnaea as she speaks, and follows the Gaian's gaze to Felix. The Gnawers' comments make her smile despite herself, and then Felix is getting up, so she sits up straighter and watches him talk. She clearly is having to guess what's going on. Maybe she's making up dialogue for the two of them like when a TV's muted. When Linnaea shifts down to homid again, she offers the woman a thumbs-up, probably having ascertained what's going on by context.
Trace leans over and murmurs very quietly to Lilah as the entire challenge plays out and Garou talk in Mother's Tongue, though only after there is a moment of silence to do so in.
Felix inclines his head slightly to Linnaea's thanks, and turns to return to his own seat as well, shifting back down as he does. Lilah's hand is not reclaimed; instead he wraps an arm around her.
Consumes-Shadows swings his head to look to his packmate, Brom, and then back to the gathering. As no disagreements are voiced he prompts, ~Any others?~
Brom taps the head of the axe against his palm as he glances back down to Thane, then back out to the rest of the Garou.
Lilah grins broadly to Trace as he murmurs to her, and she murmurs just as quietly, a heartfelt thanks as she watches Felix shift down. She leans into the Gnawer as he wraps his arm around her, and silently as possible, pulls out an individually wrapped peppermint candy out of her jeans pocket. She picks a piece of lint off the wrapper, and then silently offers it over to Felix.
Black-Light holds up his hand in a very Homid way, fingers fanned out like a child's, his rags sliding down the length of his arm. The Gnawer Ragabash stands up, his posture straightening, upright and unyielding. He takes three steps forward, his arms at his sides, and takes in a breath deep enough that his cloak billows like a balloon. His head cants, his eyes looking toward the feline, toward the bird, and then to Consumes-Shadows. ~Yes,~ Black-Light says. His gaze spins like an empty bottle and lands uon Alicia. ~Last-Song-Standing,~ he jerks his head. ~I challenge for Adren.~
Linnaea has settled and is scratching Bad-Boy's ears idly, but when it is her tribemate that is the one being challenged, the cliath Gaian leans forward to watch more carefully.
Felix accepts Lilah's candy, and gives her a silent kiss on the cheek for the offer. The only ensuing crinkle noise is the one as he tucks the candy into his pocket, though, as his tribemate being the one challenging has his attention.
Brings-the-Pack briefly meets Slug's gaze, nods once, and then goes back to observing the rest of those gathered at the moot.
Pushing herself upwards, Alicia looks genuinely surprised by the challenge. "Huh." She says as she studies the Gnawer for a long moment before her attention drifts towards the others in the Sept. Then with a glance towards Dakota, she stares into her eyes for a moment, then looks back towards Slug. "Dakota accepts on my behalf and she will set the terms." She says as she gives a nod of her head. "As much as I would love to take on your challenge, I do not feel that I am the best person here tonight that can give you the challenge that will really push you to your limits and help you achieve your goal. If that is alright with you and the Philodox present, I will step to the side."
Black-Light merely bobs his head and turns his attention on the other Gaian, teetering between confidence and apprehensiveness.
Dakota listens to the challenge be issues to her cousin with her knees drawn up to her chest, fingers absently drumming something against a leg. As Alicia drops her name though she stops and tips her head ever so faintly as she looks to the Gaian elder. She seems surprised, though not too openly. There's a raise of her brows before she gets to her feet. "We challenge who we feel will truly test us so we can earn our rank without question. I'll take the challenge, yes, but it has to be what Slug wants. I wouln't do it if it doesn't feel right to him."
There's a pause, a few heartbeats while the Gnawer forms the right words in his head. ~I only care that my challenge is just in the eyes of whoever gives it, and unquestioned by those that hear it.~
Alicia gives a firm pat of Dakota's shoulder, then settles herself back down on the log, one leg crossing over the other as she reclines.
Trace tilts his head to one side and watches with interest as the next challenge occurs, brows raised, arms crossing over his chest.
Dakota takes to her Crinos form after the Gnawer speaks and dips her muzzle to him. ~As it should be, especially for the rank of Adren. I will not see you left in question as my first challenge was. By the next half moon moot at latest, Gaia willing we're all able to gather in peace, I will deliver your terms, Black-Light.~
Justin is cackling next to Felix and Trace as he watches the three-way unfold before them. "Ha." He mutters under his breath, giving the Galliard a shoulder bump. "I think he should have a boneless wing challenge with ghost pepper sauce."
Brom gives a nod of his head towards Slug and Dakota, then rumbles out. "I got no qualms with it. Good luck, Slug." He says as he twirls the axe about in his large mits.
Pack> Justin says "Exploding boneless wings."
Consumes-Shadows listens to the Children of Gaia play hot potato with the challenge with a scrunch of his muzzle that deepens as his ear turns towards the whispering coyotes. ~Respect the challenges.~ He chides with a click of his fangs. As his packmate declares the shiftover valid the Ahroun says, ~One challenges for Fostern, one for Adren. May your challenges prove you worthy, the sept has need of your strength. Do we have any others with challenges or concerns?~
Black-Light bows at the waist to the assembled Garou, his hood flopping forward until it consumes the whole of his head. ~Thank you,~ he rumbles, paws held together before him. Then he takes two steps back and sits, legs coiled beneath his garment, looking much like a monster hidden poorly under a bedsheet.
Felix's brows go up as the elder Galliard passes the challenge over, and if anything, watches even closer while things are determined. Still, Justin's mutter gets a near-silent laugh, and he leans over to murmur a quiet translation of Slug and Dakota's words to Lilah.
Pack> Felix says "Sauce everywhere. If you go with the ghost pepper sauce I reckon that might qualify as a chemical weapon."
Pack> Justin says "That would be a pretty sweet chemical weapon. I could also lace it with exlax. Make it burn both ways coming out."
Pack> Felix says "Oh, fuck, that'd be harsh. ...ain't sayin' don't try it."
Pack> Justin says "So we gonna do it then?"
Lilah smiles warmly at the translation, and she seems more than a little fascinated with the way this challenge is going. She gives a thumbs-up of support over to Slug once he's sat down, and then leans back over against Felix.
Pack> Felix considers this silently for a moment. "Well, I reckon we oughta figure it out, an' then save it for someone deservin'."
Heartsinger steps back where she has been occupying and thumps a hand against her cousin's shoulder. She says nothing further though and casts her eyes over the gathering to see if anyone else is stepping up.
Consumes-Shadows gives the sept members time to speak up, but after a minute or so passes with no one coming forward the Alpha announces, ~Then this moot is concluded. Those challenged, you know the drill, speak to the Master of Challenges since she isn't here. Again as a reminder, Edgewood should be avoided and remain on high alert when anywhere on or near the bawn. Trace, the newly arrives Glass Walker, has volunteered in the capacity of Guardian. To anyone else interested in doing so, speak to me. Watch your backs out there. Be safe, be careful.~
When things are concluded, Linnaea looks over at Briari and nods, getting to her feet. The members of Otter Space leave much as they arrived, albeit in the reverse order.
Brings-the-Pack lingers in the tree after the moot is officially ended, seemingly in no hurry to disband quite yet. But also in no hurry to come down from his tree limb, either.
Trace grins and looks over at Felix. "Well, that was eventful," the Walker ahroun says, grinning. His gaze wanders over those remaining, and he notes, "I moved my car this morning, should be good for a while. Gonna cross my fingers and hope you'll get the beer and smokes from the trunk for me, though, /por favor/." There's a bit of a teasing tone to the Gnawer, but the request is very much in earnest.
Snakepatcher listens with interest to the news, challenges, and so forth, then pads off into the trees, with only the flip of an ear revealing his attention to those perched high above.
Black-Light stands once the dust has settled, shaking the dirt and dust off of his garment. He skirts the edge of what crowd remains, glancing at Brings-the-Pack, and stands underneath Memory. He looks up at her, nose wriggling, eyes glinting in the dim moonlight.
Memory stands on one skinny scaled limb as she stretches out one leg beneath it, then switches sides. That done, she fluffs out her feathers and gives herself a good shake, before looking down at Slug and clicking her beak together.
Brings-the-Pack observes Slug standing beneath the corax. "And fate has been tempted once again," he quietly asides, a hint of bemusement in his digital voice.
Felix relaxes a bit as things are concluded, gives Lilah a squeeze, and looks over to Trace, nodding agreement. "Ain't seen that happen before." He tilts his head, then, "You're really gonna do the Guardian thing? That's gonna kinda crimp your pie style, ain't it? An' sure, I'll get 'em. Where'd you move it, an' where exactly d'you want shit?" He glances from the Walker toward the cougar, looking thoughtful, but doesn't yet get up.
Trace grimaces and nods. "Yeah," he says, "well. For the time being, this is more important than strawberry-rhubarb pie, as much as that..." he trails off and shrugs. "It is for now, and for a while, not forever." He grins. "Most of the stuff is in the frame backpack in the trunk, except for all the stuff in the grocery bag, and we'll figure that out. Storage lot outside town, paid for three months at the moment. I paid the motel through the rest of the month as well."
Black-Light reaches toward the bird with one hand, but soon stops. She's out of his reach. He turns toward Brings-the-Pack and smiles just a bit, a flash of white on a black face. ~If I die, I die happy, not angry. What more could a Garou hope for?~
With a flutter of wings, Memory leaves her perch and lands atop Black-Light's Crinos skull and lightly pecks at one of his ears.
Brings-the-Pack offers towards Slug, "To be happy and not die, I imagine would be a reasonable alternative. Best of luck to you, though."
"A'right," Felix says, considering, "...still okay if I use it some? But yeah, that shouldn't be a problem, think I prolly know the lot you mean. Reckon I'll mostly be here too, but I don't think I'm gonna volunteer. Someone's gotta be able to go get shit." He grins, and does stand now, kissing Lilah on the head along the way and stretching full length when he gets there. "Hey, Slug," he calls over to the Ragabash, slightly louder, "G'luck!"
Trace grins a bit, and his brows raise when Val alights on Slug's head, which prompts a full chuckle. "Of course it's okay," he points out to Felix, and then looks at the cat mage. "Not dying is definitely a reasonable alternative. How's it going?"
~Time, claws, or bullets. Everyone dies. Even the ones that cheat death will die with the rest of us when The Wheel turns.~ Black-Light responds, neither grave or grim, merely matter of fact. When he turns his head to look at Felix, Memory turns with him, his head twisting slow as to not upset the raven. ~Thank you! It's better to be lucky than good.~ He tips his head at Brings-the-Pack and gives Memory a faint tap with one of his ears. ~Thanks.~
Brings-the-Pack makes a slight nod of his head to Slug's comments before he turns to regard Trace from the safety of his lofty tree limb. "Too busy tending to the affairs of the garou and not busy enough with my own projects. But it is for a good cause," the mage-cat adds at the end. "Do you need me to determine if a place is in danger?" he says, referencing an offer he'd made to all of those gathered at the beginning of the moot.
Memory uses her beat to straighten out some of the fur atop the Crinos' head, before she turns her attention to the cat-mage. "I am planning a trip into Queens Tower. If someone can provide me with listening devices or similar, I can do my best to leave little presents in my wake."
"I know I do all the not-dyin' I can manage," Felix agrees solemnly, nodding, but it turns into a laugh at Slug's reply to him. "Knew I was named right." He considers a moment before addressing the cougar, and this time the seriousness isn't affected. "Don't wanna be more in the way of your other magic stuff, but if you got time an' it won't take energy you need for that, would you mind takin' a glance at the Library?" A glance to Slug, and he adds, "...well, an' assumin' my elder ain't against it."
Trace tilts his head towards Felix when the Gnawer speaks, and then there's a moment later that he adds, "Not sure if it's been brought up, but it would probably be worth taking a look at Harbor Park in the city, as well, and letting those who are still in the city know of the results," he says. "Just a suggestion, though."
Lilah grins up at Felix at the kiss to her head, and then notes to both of them, "I got a bit o' cash saved up, if'n y'all need it. It ain't much, but it'd be somethin', right?" She rises from her seat on the log, and 'accidentally' bumps Felix's shoulder with her own. She looks up at Brings-the-Pack thoughtfully as the cougar speaks, but whatever's thought, isn't spoken. Instead, she smiles over at Trace, "I don't think we've been formally introduced yet. I reckon I should rectify that situation. Name's Lilah Sinclair, Gnawer kin." She even gives a polite little wave. She perks up at mention of the Library, and casts a hopeful look at Slug.
Trace nods to Lilah and grins. "Trace, but you've heard all of that before," he says, and extends a hand to shake hers, and continues, "/Encantado, señora/. I have heard a lot about you."
Black-Light does not seem to mind being preened. If anything, he enjoys it. ~I expect some kinda notice or comm-link as you're flyin' by, so I ain't on pins and needles all day,~ Black-Light says, looking up at his own head. He draws a great breath at the mention of the library and raises his hand as if to sweep through his hair, but thinks better of it. Instead, he merely looks at Brings, Felix, and then Lilah. ~I like the library, a lot, but it is... secondary. And I think it will be safe as long as we don't give them a reason to burn it. If he wants to, I'd be thankful, but in the end, it's just a pile of bricks. Nothing worth dying for. Nothing worth risking too much over. We're Gnawers, and this Sept is very kind to us. We can survive as long as the Sept does, no matter where our home is.~
"Be careful," Brings-the-Pack requests of Val. "And seek out a Walker. They likely have listening devices." To Trace he adds, "Harbor Park, for the time being and provided the hands of Fate stay relatively constant, is not in any immediate, significant danger." It would seem the cougar-mage has already checked out that glade. "Edgewood and the caern both appear to have.... chaotic futures." He addresses Felix, including Slug in his response. "I know where your Library is located. Yes, I can go there in the next few days and attempt to divine its future. I had thought more would ask the favor of me than just one, but as that has not happened, one is not a terrible imposition. I would prefer a nocturnal time. 3AM: the witching hour?" he suggests.
Memory, perched atop Black-Light's head, bobs up and down in response to what the Mage-Cat says. After going silent and still for a few heartbeats, she voices a chipper, "toodles!" And takes off for parts unknown.
Felix twines his fingers with Lilah's when she bumps his shoulder, and nods to Slug. "That's why I was sayin', =if=," he replies; the tone says agreement, not argument. "...an' thanks," he says to the cougar, "for checkin' shit out for us like that. In general. I'd figure you'd know better'n anyone what was a good time, but I ain't quite sure what the time's... for. D'you need me to do anythin'?"
Ghost fairly slinks into the Compound, with her shoulders hunched and her step very quiet--although not any more than her usual. Blatant curiosity can be read in her otherwise guarded expression.
Trace turns to look at the newcomer, pushing to his feet as Ghost slinks in, brows going up, before casting a glance first towards Slug and then towards Felix, with a clear question in it.
Lilah grins broadly at Trace's claim to have heard so much about her, and she glances to Felix before leaning in conspiratorially to Trace. "All awfully terrible stuff, I'm sure," she murmurs in a voice designed to be heard. In a more conversational tone of voice, she goes on, "S'nice to see new faces." Trace's hand is shaken firmly, with a smile. She looks to Slug's words, nodding her understanding, and sounds glad to hear Brings-the-Pack is looking into it. "Thank ya for helpin' look into stuff, an'... helpin' in general." She has yet to notice Ghost.
Black-Light looks up as the bird takes flight, watching her until she's nothing but a speck of black on a sea of midnight. He stares off into space, muzzle to the sky, dead to the world. Then he snaps to and pivots on his heel, cloak fluttering around him. ~Thank you,~ he says to Brings-the-Pack. ~Since it's a favor for the Gnawers, and I'm the Elder, I'd be happy to be your backup. Just a driver, someone to make sure you get away, or whatever. And I would owe you a favor.~ He doesn't notice Ghost until Trace draws his attention, at which point he shifts down to Homid and shrugs.
Brings-the-Pack looks about to dismiss Slug's offer of a ride to and from the Library, but then he suddenly accepts it. "That would be useful," he replies as he pushes to all fours, balancing like a feather on the tree limb, and prepares to venture back into the trees and night. To Felix he asks, "Leave a door to the alley cracked open so I may enter without the need for hands." A beat. "Protecting the garou--and their kin--aids in protecting the caern," he replies to Felix, encompassing Lilah in his response, and perhaps providing some insight into at least one of the wary mage ally's motives. "Pardon me for my abrupt departure, but I must go now." And he's moving through the tree tops, leaping from one to the next, with gentle rustling noises from the pines as he goes.
"G'night," Felix says after the tree-leaping cat, watching it a moment. He looks to the newest arrival then, tilting his head as he regards her. "Evenin', Ghost. Late for the moot or just droppin' by in general?"
"Yes," Ghost says in reply. She gives Trace a careful looking over as well. "What, uh, what happened at Moot?"
Trace looks at Ghost for a long moment. "Trace Garza, called Six-Shooter. Fostern and Ahroun of the Glass Walkers, formerly of Steel Angel. And, for the time being, Guardian." He lifts his shoulders. "One of the Gaians challenged Felix, and then Slug challenged one of the Gaians. Edgewood is off limits. Other than that, not much."
Lilah squeezes Felix's hand lightly, and looks thoughtful in general as she watches Brings-the-Pack leap away, and then glances to Black-Light, offering him a smile. For now, she's quiet and watchful, not saying anything. She does, however, give Ghost a wave of greeting.
"That's all, folks," Slug says after Trace's summary. "Me and you?" He says to Ghost. "We should probably chat sometime, maybe in a few weeks," he glances at Trace and Lilah. "I should definitely hang around, get to know you both, but I'm tired and kinda... well. I spent all day thinking about challenging, and now that it's done, I feel like a zit that's been popped." He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. "Gonna scoot. Ya'll be good, kay?" And with that, he takes off.
Ghost snorts at Slug, vaguely, briefly amused. "Yeah, in a few weeks." She looks back to Trace, and simply says, "Ghost."
"Linnaea," Felix specifies, "An' Dakota. Respectively. Well, actually he challenged Alicia, but there was a hand-off. Night, Slug." He glances to Lilah, and then toward the sky. "You tired, doll?"
Trace tilts his head to the side for a moment, and glances at Felix. "If you're going to go to my car," he notes, "I should probably give you my keys." Which are promptly withdrawn from his jeans pocket, and tossed towards the Bone Gnawer. "I'll be fine for tonight, though. Got that much figured out."
Lilah smiles over at Slug, nodding to his words, and watches as he heads off. When she turns back to Felix, she follows his gaze to the sky, and then nods. "I could rest," she says with a shrug. Trace and Ghost are also smiled at, and she adds, "It was nice seein' y'all. I--" Another shrug. "S'just nice to see everybody."
Ghost's mouth moves in a small impression of a possible smile, though it never quite gets far enough to be certain. Lilah does get a nod.
It's a good toss; Felix just flips his free hand over and reaches forward a couple inches and the keys drop right in. "I reckon I coulda managed," he tells the Walker, with a quick grin, "but keys're easier. I'll bring your shit by in the mo--" he pauses, reconsidering slightly, "--tomorrow, then. Cool?" Lilah's hand gets a squeeze, and he glances to Ghost: "Oughta drop in earlier next time, maybe." It's closer to an invitation than a scolding.
There's a grin from Trace and a nod that follows what Felix says. "Seeya," he offers to both Felix and Lilah, before moving over back to the fire pit, although no fire is in it at the moment he sits down on one of the logs as a seat. His gaze turns back to Ghost, then, although he's silent for the moment.
Lilah gives a final wave-and-smile to Trace and Ghost, and adds, "See ya both 'round." That said, she's ready to head out, glancing at Felix to let him lead the way.
"What?" Ghost says, as the gaze lingers.
"See ya," Felix replies, with a grin for both Garou remaining, and then he heads off, drawing Lilah along with him at a fairly reasonable clip.